


Cold Hands, Warm Heart

by yearofmeteors



Category: Agatha Christie's Poirot (TV), Poirot - Agatha Christie
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2426051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yearofmeteors/pseuds/yearofmeteors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hercule Poirot hates the cold. But sometimes it's worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Hands, Warm Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post: [Which Otp . . .](http://onetobeamup.tumblr.com/post/99484369909/akarians-which-person-in-your-otp-sticks-their) as well as [The Mystery of Hunter's Lodge](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0676182/) episode.

Poirot loved to tease Hastings. And this was one of his most favorite ways of doing so. A cold hand on bare skin, making Hastings squeak and wrinkle his nose in the sweetest of ways.

Hastings had once again gone on a hunting trip in a cold, damp, and thoroughly uninviting place. And of course he had asked Poirot to come along. Poirot agreed but feigned reluctance the whole way. But the cold and wet was a small price to pay to see Hastings bright and chipper, indulging in one of his favorite pastimes. If they stayed in London too long, the brightness in his eyes would dull and Poirot would make an effort to get them out of the city. But now he was beginning to regret coming along. He was bundled up as much as he could, sitting by the fire. He had sat on the moor with the wives and sweethearts as Hastings and the men had gone about their foolhardy sport. The implications of the situation was not lost on him, but it didn't bother him very much. Hastings was always so glad to have Poirot there, even if Poirot's presence meant deriding remarks.

Even though they had relocated to the lodge, his hands were still cold, the gloves having done nothing to keep out the chill, and the fire was slower to warm them than he would've liked. He knew he was impatient at times, but it was no matter, his solution was walking towards him with perfect timing.

“Mon coeur.” He murmured, allowing himself the indulgence as they were alone for a moment.

“Hello, Poirot.” Hastings said, a blush on his face at the endearment. “Warming up I hope?”

Poirot wrinkled his nose, “Non! This fire is too weak and my hands are the blocks of ice. Why do you insist on the frozen wastelands Hastings?”

“It’s not as bad as all that.” Hastings said companionably, stoking the fire. Poirot smiled to himself at the consideration.

“You are of the warm blood, Poirot he is not. You do not know what it is like!”

Hastings chuckled, setting down the poker and looking for a blanket. “You are impossible.” He murmured, a smile on his voice. He laid the blanket around Poirot’s shoulders, his hands lingering. Poirot took the opportunity to place one of his hands on Hastings’. He smiled at the squeak Hasting let out.

“Good God man.” Hastings breathed. “You weren't lying, they _are_ blocks of ice.” He squeezed Poirot’s hand and let go.

“Hastings . . ?” Poirot did not want to be left without Hastings’ hand in his own.

Hastings pulled a chair close to Poirot and sat down, their knees touching. “Here. . .” He took Poirot’s hands between his and tried to rub some life into them. “You should wear the pair of mittens Ms. Lemon made you. I know they’re not the most attractive, but this is ridiculous."

Poirot grinned up at him. “Hmmm, I think I am quite content without them.” Hastings met his gaze, his mouth quirked in a smile. Poirot recognized it as the one Hastings got when he knew he was in on whatever joke Poirot had made.

Yes, Poirot thought happily, he was quite content.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic ever posted publicly!
> 
> I've recently watched all of the Poirot episodes available on Netflix after someone talked about the possibility of a queerplatonic relationship between Hastings and Poirot. Instead of that particular headcanon occurring after watching, I instead created a wide and expansive story in my head. Where Poirot is asexual, Hastings is bisexual, and Ms. Lemon is aromantic and they are all in this cute relationship thing.
> 
> This is just a small scene from said universe. 
> 
> Said universe/story may or may not be published. . .


End file.
